A Ghost's Paradise
by madeleine68
Summary: Set during "Ghost" when Alex returns. A/O oneshot. Please review!


**Disclaimer: If you've seen them on the show, they're not mine. They belong to Dick Wolf.**

**This is how I picture **_**Ghost **_**from Alex's point of view. This is completely A/O, but not graphic or sexual, so no warnings necessary. Spoilers for **_**Ghost **_**and **_**Loss**_**.**

The moment I see Olivia again for the first time in more than a year, I'm resisting two simultaneous conflicting urges. Part of me wants to burst into tears of relief because I never thought I'd live to see this day where I'd be reunited with my best friend and former lover again. The other part of me wants to run to her and throw my arms around her and tell her how much I love her still, and ask her if she feels the same. But there's too large an audience and I know I can't do either of those things, so I compose myself and stand as straight as I can, my arms at my sides, watching her with the air of the ice queen that I haven't been for over a year.

Her eyes widen in surprise when she sees me and I hope she doesn't start crying again, as she did the day I left her. It was the only time I'd ever seen the mighty Olivia Benson cry and it had taken all I had for me not to burst into tears as well.

Elliot's starting at me too and he says in disbelief, "You didn't have to come back."

"I know," I reply with a hint of teasing in my voice. "But who else is going to get you out of trouble?"

Olivia gives me a small smile and I can tell she's trying to hold back her tears and retain her poise.

Casey Novak, the new ADA, is watching us with a look of discomfort on her face. I honestly can't blame her; I would feel pretty bad myself if my predecessor came back and my colleagues were so glad to see her. So it only bothers me a little when she interrupts us and says, "They're waiting for us in court."

I size her up, wondering how competent this new attorney is. I don't know anything about her except that she has my former job, which feels like a knife to my chest, even though I know it's not her fault. But _I _should be the one prosecuting Liam Connors, not the one testifying as to what he did to _me_. I'm the lawyer, not the victim – or, at least, I should be. I wonder briefly if Casey is as close with the detectives as I used to be, but then dismiss the thought. First of all, it doesn't matter, and secondly, the pure joy on Olivia's face when she saw me again tells me all I need to know.

* * *

I saunter into the courtroom ten minutes later, giving Liam Connors my signature icy stare. I hate to admit that I'm still afraid, but I know that I'm in the familiar courtroom with all my friends and he can't hurt me. I smirk at the expression of pure astonishment on his face when he sees that I'm "back from the dead." God, it feels so good to be back.

Judge Preston remands Liam Connors and calls a ten minute recess, clearly still in shock at my reappearance. I just sit there, soaking in the familiarity of the place I once frequented, wishing with all my heart that those days were in my future as well as my past.

* * *

That evening, I go with Casey to her office – which used to be _my _office, and I still can't stop thinking of it as such – to go over my testimony. To my surprise, Mike and Antonio are there already, sitting on the couch. Antonio looks at us with his big, dark eyes and says, "I'm really scared. I don't want to see the ghost. He gives me bad dreams. He says he's going to kill me."

"He had a nightmare last night," explains Mike. "The ghost had a gun in the courtroom."

I can tell Casey doesn't really know what to say to that, but she tries anyway. "That sounds like a really scary dream," she empathizes. "But, you know what, Antonio? The ghost doesn't have a gun anymore because the police took it away from him."

"I know," says Antonio. "Mike told me. But I still don't want to go to court."

Instinctively, I know how to deal with this. Ever since I let go of my political aspirations and accepted they were never going to come true, I've always been good with the kids. For most police officers and attorneys, that's their weakest point, but for both Olivia and I, it's our strongest. Another thing we have in common. So I lean toward Antonio and say, "I got shot just like you."

"By the ghost?" he asks.

"Yes," I tell him, "And I have to go to court too."

"Are you scared?"

"A little," I reply truthfully. "I get scared that he might try and hurt me again, but then I remember that I have friends to protect me just like you do and it makes me feel safe."

He looks at the ground, still clearly unsure. "I wish my mom was here."

That takes my breath away for a moment because I wish my own mom was here too. She died while I was in witness protection and I never even got to say goodbye. We were always close and it must have hurt her so much to have thought she'd outlived her only child.

"I'll keep working with him," says Mike, noticing the look on my face. "Come on, Antonio."

The little boy glances at me one more time before following Mike out the door.

I let out a deep breath as Casey sits down across from me. "We should keep preparing my testimony." In all honesty, I'm probably ready for whatever they're going to throw at me, but being back here, in this office, makes me feel safe. With it comes a wave of nostalgia that threatens to drown me, but still, most of the memories were good, and I don't want to leave just yet.

"You know, we've gone over all my questions. I think you're ready," says Casey. I can tell she's trying to be compassionate, but if anything, that only peeves me even more.

I can't stop the bitter retort that's on the tip of my tongue. "Are you?"

She just stares at me, pain reflected in her eyes, and I wince. I shouldn't be taking my anger out on her; after all, none of this is her fault. "Casey, I'm sorry. That was out of line."

She nods. "It's got to be hard to be on that side of a desk."

* * *

Elliot and I are playing our hundredth game of backgammon when I hear a gentle knock on the door. My body immediately tenses, preparing myself just in case it's another hit man behind the door. I almost laugh at the thought, but still, I can't help but shudder.

Elliot jumps up and pulls out his gun, pointing it at the door as he advances toward it. But then I hear Olivia's soft voice announcing herself and let out a deep breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding.

She smiles at me. "Hey."

I smile back. Maybe this will be just like the good old days.

"You get your beauty sleep," says Elliot with a smile of his own. "I'll be back 8:00 sharp tomorrow to bring you to court."

"Good night," says Olivia, then turns to me. "Did he beat you again?"

"Like a rug," I reply with a rueful grin.

"Do you want to keep playing?"

I shake my head. "Nah." Another reminder of how much I've changed. The old Alex Cabot never used words like "nah" because she knew that they technically weren't words at all.

I stare out the window at the Manhattan landscape. There is no place like the big city and there's no big city quite like New York. I've missed it so much – the anonymity that comes with urban areas, the skyscrapers so high you can't see the tops, even the toxic fumes you breathe as you walk down the street. With a wistful sigh, I say, more to myself than anyone, "I wish these windows opened. I – I want to smell the city." It's the thing I've missed the most.

"You mean the rotting garbage and the diesel exhaust," teases Olivia.

But I'm serious. I never thought I would miss something like that, something that native New Yorkers take for granted and tourists despise. I try to explain, a hint of longing creeping into my voice. "Wisconsin is so quiet at night. Sometimes when I get homesick, I hum the Mr. Softy song."

She smiles at that, just like I knew she would, which is why I said it. I love Olivia's smile. It makes everything in the world okay.

She sits down on the couch and says with a twinge of yearning in her own voice, "You making any friends?"

I smile sadly. "There's a claims adjustor at the insurance agency where I work. We've been seeing each other."

She smiles back, but I see it in her eyes. Although she's trying to be happy for me, she doesn't want to think that there's someone else. But there isn't. I go out with him because it's part of my cover. It isn't Alex he spends the day with; it's Emily, as if that makes it any better. He isn't Olivia and I hope she knows that.

"He's a good man," I continue. "He thinks I'm from Tulsa. And when we're in bed together at night, he whispers my name. Emily." At the last part, I'm struggling not to cry. Who knew that living a lie would be this hard?

Olivia takes a deep breath and says sympathetically, "It's hard to be someone you're not."

I couldn't agree more. But as it always is with Olivia, I feel the walls I've erected to separate myself from the outside world slowly start to crumble, and I let my guard down. When I'm with her I'm _me_. Not Emily from Tulsa, not an icy, distant prosecutor, but _me_, Alex Cabot.

"I can't stop thinking like a prosecutor!" I cry, letting her see my frustration and the one thing I fear above all; the uncertainty I have yet to show anyone. "Connors is going to sit in that courtroom tomorrow, looking like a choirboy. He is going to charm the jury with his Irish brogue and I have to make them see who he really is, but I don't even know what makes him tick!" This is my greatest terror, that he'll be acquitted and there won't be a thing I can do about it.

I see Olivia rummaging around in her bag for something and vaguely wonder what it is. "Alex," she says, handing me a file folder. "You didn't see this file."

I look up at her, speechless. There's nothing to say to such a gift. She's just helped me get Liam Connors put in jail.

* * *

Olivia and I spend the night reminiscing and then play _Scrabble _twice. I win both times, which we both knew I would. I did go to law school, after all. But Olivia has a naturally competitive nature and challenges me to a rematch. I beat her by a hundred points anyway.

Around midnight, we decide to turn in for the night. Tomorrow's going to be a long day. I offer Olivia the bedroom, but she declines. "I'm perfectly happy with the sofa bed," she insists. "You take the bedroom."

The old Olivia would have given me a sly smile and said, "We can share it," but we're past that now. If and when we resume our relationship, we're going to have to take it slow. It's been too long to jump into things, pick them up where we've left off. We need to ease into things if we want to make it work.

I change into a tank top and sweatpants and brush my teeth before climbing into bed. Hopefully tonight, there will be none of the nightmares that have plagued me since entering witness protection.

* * *

"_She's living at 235 West, 78__th__. Apartment "C" like Charlie. Gets home around 8:00."_

"_Jogs at six. You could go jogging with her. Central Park."_

"_I was thinking I could visit her mother."_

"_I was thinking I could visit her mother."_

"_That's an idea. Mom lives upstate. East Amherst."_

_The two unidentified men haunt my dreams on a nightly basis. I never see their faces, though, just hear their voices, leering at me . . ._

_BANG!_

* * *

I start awake from a gentle shaking of my shoulders. "Alex," whispers a gentle voice, the same one from my dream that I always hear after the bang. "Alex, honey, it's okay. It's okay. You're safe now."

I'm drenched in a cold sweat and tears are streaking down my face as I violently tremble in Olivia's arms. I'm too far gone to even mind her seeing me in such a vulnerable state; we're past that. She saw me get shot and I saw her crying the day I left.

Olivia's stroking my hair gently as I rest my head on her shoulder. I wish I could just forget about Rafael Zapata and Cesar Velez, the day I got shot, the men who threatened my life. "It's okay," she murmurs in my ear. "It was only a dream. You're okay. I'm here."

It never fails to perplex me how well Olivia reads people. She can always tell instinctively just how to make people feel better when they're upset. I lean into her, revelling in the warmth. I never thought I'd ever be back with Olivia like this, but I am, and it's the greatest feeling in the world.

She gently rubs my back until my sobs abate. When I'm calm enough to speak coherently, I whisper, "I'm sorry, Liv."

"No, no," she assures me. "It's okay. That's why I'm here."

I look up at her pleadingly, even though dependent is the last thing I want to be right now. "Stay with me?"

Without letting go of me, she lies down beside me on the bed, as if it was just yesterday that we did this last. "Always."

I close my eyes in pure bliss at her closeness. I pretend that this is permanent and we'll have a million more days like this, holding each other as we sleep. I wish this night would last forever.

**I hope you like this oneshot. Please review if you did!**


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